Thursday, February 26, 2009

<We have water in our village now, we have a house and my Dad's out fishing.

It's been a busy week. I'm exhausted but it has been worthwhile. After four years and a bit working almost full time on the Tsunami relief and recovery in India, Maldives, Sri Lanka and now Indonesia, it is such a joy to see people's lives getting back to normal. Earlier in the week I was in Aceh province of Indonesia where the devastating tsunami claimed almost 300,000 lives. On Monday I was at a ceremony where the President of Indonesia inaugurated a Tsunami memorial museum, a Polytechnic, the new port and many other important facilities for Banda Aceh.

The cheapest way to get about quickly in Sumatra and Aceh, is to charter small Cessna planes. One of the pilots is a fellow Kiwi. Photo: Bob McKerrow

On Tuesday I flew to Calang with the Chairman of the Indonesian Red Cross, the Canadian Ambassador, the Secretary General of the Canadian Red Cross, to inugurate houses built by the Canadian Red Cross in partnership with the Indonesian Red Cross Society (PMI). This is part of the International Red Cross (IFRC) and PMI effort to build 40,000 homes: 20,000 permanent homes and another 20,000 sturdy transitional shelters which will last more than 25 years. It was such a wonderful occasion seeing villagers in their brand new homes and happy. Later I will tell you Mulinda's story about her new life, her new house and Ben's fishpond.

Let me first tell tell you about the village of Mata Ie which was completely devastated by the tsunami that descended upon the west coast of Sumatra December 26, 2004. Located in the Aceh Jaya sub-district of Sampoiniet (west of Jeumpheuk), its remains today lie underwater.

Much has been accomplished in the years following the tsunami. The Canadian Red Cross (CRC), in partnership with Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA), and PMI, helped rebuild Mata Ie, bigger and stronger than it was before.CRC is building over 5,500 houses in 49 villages in Aceh and Nias. Mata Ie is one of those relocated villages, its original location is now lying some four kilometres away from the shore of the Indian Ocean.

Getting relief supplies and housing materials out to remote areas was a logistical nightmare. Here we are taking M6 trucks supplied by Norway on landing crafts, plus bulldozers, to make roads so we can transport materials.

Their new land was generously donated by the village of Arongan Lambalek, to the west of Cot Langsat. 68 light green houses with the distinctive red roofs of the Canadian Red Cross now sit on these 26 hectares of land. More than half of them are already occupied. Despite the many lives claimed by the tsunami, the population of Mata Ie has actually grown in recent years. Residents opened their hearts and welcomed close to 100 of their closest neighbours, displaced themselves from their own homes in Jeumphuek, Cot Langsat and Babah Nipah. More than 220 people now call Mata Ie home.

I think the Red Cross built houses are great !

Residents may have lost their homes in the tsunami, but they did not lose their livelihoods. Many have returned to their lives as small business owners; as farmers and fishermen.There are no schools in this village. Children attend schools in nearby communities, taking their studies very seriously. A nurse at one health clinic in Mata Ie attends to the medical needs of residents as they arise. Once a month, a travelling health clinic visits.

Mata Ie is a community that gets along with its neighours, as well as local levels of government. It’s an inclusive village that encourages women to take a larger role in making decisions that affect the entire community. And it is very welcoming to the Canadian Red Cross and its staff.

The village of Mata Ie last Tuesday, looking spick and span. Photo: Bob McKerrow

CRC could not rebuild Mata Ie alone. It took commitment on the part of many partners, including the villagers themselves, CIDA, BRR (Government of Indonesia Housing Agency) which is constructing permanent infrastructure, and American Red Cross, which is supplying water and sanitation to all of the homes. The CRC commitment did not end there. Making a conscious decision to build communities, not just houses, CRC embarked on programs that would improve the health of Mata Ie villagers, through improved water and sanitation, and hygiene promotion. The CRC Livelihoods Program saw the successful construction of a volleyball court; volleyball is a favourite pastime of the Acehnese. Residents of Mata Ie admit to still being traumatized by the tsunami and living in fear of future natural disasters, including earthquakes.

Villagers admit to still being traumatized by the tsunami. In days that followed the Tsunami, Red Cross volunteers disposed of bodies under terrible conditions, but with the greatest possible dignity.

To help mitigate those fears, CRC introduced Disaster Risk Reduction programs to the area, so next time, not only will residents be better prepared for a natural disaster, they’ll also be better able to respond.

A British Red Cross house, showing its design features under the worst flooding since the Tsunami. Photo: Bob McKerrow

A German Red Cross house, showing the advantages of high design standards as the worst flood simce the Tsunami tests the builder's skills.. Photo: Bob McKerrow,

Mulinda’s story: “A new life in a new home” (photo of her home above)

When the 2004 tsunami swept away her family home on the island of Pulo Breuh, Mulinda was seven months pregnant. Her daughter was born on March 1, 2005, while they were living in a camp for the displaced called Mata’ie (“tears”) near Banda Aceh.

Now three years old, little Saidatul Rahmi deftly cuts and pops slices of apple into her mouth on the doorstep of their new two-bedroom house, built by the British Red Cross.

Unlike many other families in Ulee Paya village, which has 300 inhabitants, Mulinda’s relatives all survived the disaster. But there was nothing left of the home she had lived in with her parents. It was five months before they were able to return to the island, just off the northern tip of Indonesia’s Aceh province.

Flowers

Mulinda, 30, moved into the yellow Red Cross house with her husband and daughter in 2007, and her parents live close by. Trees and pots of pink flowers grow in the front garden and there is a wood-frame carpentry workshop at one side, where Saidatul’s father makes furniture.

“This house is much better,” says Mulinda, sitting on the pink three-piece suite in her living room. “It’s quieter, and even though it’s smaller than our old house, it is of higher quality.”

After the tsunami, most people needed new furniture, so orders have been coming in from neighbouring villages too. The business has taken on another employee.

Protected

Mulinda’s family seem happy in their new concrete-brick home, which is one of 47 the Red Cross constructed in Ulee Paya. Hopefully they are also better protected against damage from future disasters.

All Red Cross houses in the tsunami-affected area of Indonesia are built to withstand earthquakes up to magnitude 6, and should protect people inside up to magnitude 7.

“We sometimes have earthquakes, but when they happen, the house just shakes. There aren’t any cracks,” says Mulinda. From rice field to fishpond: Reclaiming damaged land

Before the tsunami, Ben Khari’s home village of Alue Riyeung, on the north Acehnese island of Pulo Nasi, looked out over rice fields, separated from the beach by a swamp filled with coconut palms and mangroves.

Every morning, Ben or one of his partners heads down to the pond to give the fish their daily ration of three kilos of semi-organic

But the huge waves that smashed into the island’s coastal villages flooded the area with seawater and ripped out the trees. The semi-circle of land is now abandoned, dotted with large pools of stagnant water and tree stumps.

“It’s no good for paddy anymore, because without trees, the wind will blow in and damage the rice,” explains Ben.

Resourceful

He and a group of five other resourceful villagers put their heads together and came up with a fresh way to make use of the ruined fields. With the aid of a group grant of 3,164 Swiss francs from the British Red Cross, they have constructed a large fishpond at one edge.

First, they fenced off a 30 square metre section of stagnant water using debris from coconut trees destroyed by the tsunami (this, Ben boasts, took them just a week). Then, in April, they stocked the pond with around 3,000 bandeng (milk) fish, which they bought in the provincial capital Banda Aceh.

Because they’ve opted for a non-intensive method, the fish won’t be ready to sell until late August. Every morning, Ben or one of his partners heads down to the pond to give the fish their daily ration of three kilos of semi-organic food.

Ecological

Ben is keen to stress the ecological benefits of their approach, as well as pointing out that it’s cheaper. High-nutrient food is expensive, and because they used a flooded patch of land and recycled timber, they didn’t have to hire a digger or purchase fencing materials.

The group members don’t have to rely on the fish project for their main source of income, so they are treating it as an experiment for rehabilitating the wide expanse of land damaged by the tsunami.

“We are aware that this activity takes a long time to produce benefits, but we see it as a good way of exploiting the potential of the natural resources here. It’s an investment,” explains Ben.

“We also come here and relax with the family, so we’re all doing this project merrily,” he smiles. Thanks to Megan Rowling, British Red Cross abd Kathy Mueller, Canadian Red Cross for ptoviding information.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

"Hi, excuse me, hello, sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to ask what CD the track that is playing now is from..""Oh yes. That'll be The Brits 2009 compilation.""I don't mean to be rude, but its not. I'm not questioning you, but I'm just telling you, it isn't from that CD. This is why I was asking, as its not on any of your Now Playing displayed CD's.""Are you sure?""Yes.""Oh," frantic looking around, "Errm.""Its just The Brits CD doesn't do remixes, and this is a remix of a track by M.I.A. called Paper Planes. I just wasn't sure what remix it was.""Are you sure it isn't on The Brits CD?" Looks at the tracklisting."I'm certain.""Oh," picking up a Motown compilation, "It might be one of the others.""No, it isn't. Its definately not considered a Motown classic and is not from the latest Take That album... I know who it is by and what the track is --"Interrupting, "So what was it you wanted to know then?""It is a remix and I just wanted to know who by and it isn't on any of the CD's that I can see.""Oh, well, errm... I'm not sure what to suggest.""Nevermind, it is okay, thanks for your help anyway, thanks, bye, thanks." Under breath, "I don't even care... Or have the will to live."

This is more a call to Rob Jones than a review of the actual event itself.

So...

Dear Mr Rob Jones,

I am a little-known blogger, occasionally, but mainly I am a music and gig addict (not to mention the band t-shirts, lets not go there, one draw no long suffices). I happened to blog about you a year or so ago. And upon seeing that you were billed as playing at Darlington nearly deafened nearby dogs when I yelped with delight.

I arrived not long after 11:30pm, not for the club night, but to see yourself. I was quite shocked. I mean, people are nice and all, but, well its people in Darlington wanting to get smashed to familiar tunes.

But I must say I am glad I waited it out and stayed for your performance. You guys were fantastic and I was incredibly won over with all aspects of your set. Despite the poor sound quality of the soundsystem in there I thought all your sounds translated beautifully live. Pre-recorded sequences, drums, trumpet and quite obviously, your gorgeous and ever-giggle-inducing lyrics.

I was a little worried that after that gig that the North East of England may not have the pleasure of your presence again for a while and wanted to intercept this early! Come back. Just maybe ask me about venues/club nights first.

Warmest regards,

Stephanie Mulrine

PS My boyfriend had to be comforted due to your not having any t-shirts with you. However, come pay day I will make him smile again!

An open letter/request/bordering on petition to The Voluntary Butler Scheme.

Here is the video for Multiplayer. Buy the single when it is released on the 2nd March! Imperative.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Peter Hill, (centre) publican of the Red Lion Hotel. Hokitika, a few metres from the summit of Red Lion Peak, Waitaha Valley, West Coast, New Zealand. Photo: Bob McKerrow

I have been thinking lately about some of the best mountain climbs I have done, and they usually involve humour, sometimes a prank, but always a fun group of people. On this trip we also rediscovered the Great Spotted Kiwi in this region. Here is an article I wrote for the 1993 New Zealand Alpine Journal.

In 1867 Hokitika was described as the wonder city of the Southern Hemisphere. In the space of two years Westland’s population had increased from 1000 to 50,000, as men from remote comers of the Empire flocked to the West Coast in search of gold. At nights the streets were crowded and ablaze with lights as miners made their way to hotels, skittle alleys,gambling dens and the casino where the ‘ladies de ballets’ entertained. It was common to see ships leaving the proud port of Hokitika, then the sixth largest port in New Zealand,with 10,000 ounces of gold. The shipping records of that year show forty-one vessels in port on one day, of all nations, types and sizes.

On the slopes above the port, on Gibson Quay, was the Red Lion Hotel, one of Hokitika’s 110 hotels. James Evans built the Red Lion in 1865. He was a colourful character and had equally colourful friends such as the pirate and ‘blackbirder’,Bully Hayes. The West Coast Times of 29 December 1866 announced Captain Bully Hayes’ arrival in his brig Rona from the Fiji Islands with the following cargo — 50,000 oranges, 50,000 limes, 1000 cockatoos, 80 pigs, 200 pineapples, 200 citrons and a quantity of South Sea Island curiosities. A note in the Hokitika Historical Museum throws further light on what the curiosities were, “a number of young native Belles,” which was in keeping with Hayes ‘blackbirding’ or slave trading reputation.

Over 100 years ago, a young West Coast surveyor, who knew the hotel well, named the two prominent peaks at the head of the County Glacier Red Lion Peak and Mt. Evans, after the hotel and its publican.

Pirates no longer meet at Hokitika’s Red Lion tavern, but it’s still a keen watering hole for surveyors, trampers, bushmen, whitebaiters, mountaineers, shooters, possumers and goldminers. And it still attracts some colourful characters, such as the publican, Peter Hill, formerly of Ashburton, a thirty-nine year old ex-Army warrant officer who served in Singapore.

In April this year I was having a beer in the Red Lion with a few mountaineering friends and told Peter Hill that one of the most beautiful and remotest mountains in New Zealand was named after his pub. After he wiped the spilt beer off the bar he said, “Go on, I’m listening.” We had his attention. Like pirates of old that had frequented this very bar, I rolled out a map of the Central Southern Alps and jabbed my finger next to Red Lion Peak. “We’re planning a winter ascent in August and you’re welcome to join us,” I said half joking. There seemed something weird about the publican of the Red Lion climbing Red Lion Peak, but compared to the wild schemes that Bully Hayes and those early sailors and miners must have schemed up, our plan had a chance of success.We explained to Peter that the object of the expedition was to climb Red Lion Peak from the Waitaha Valley via the County Stream and County Glacier. “I reckon we should fly in by helicopter to the top, take a photo and then fly back, that’s the easy way,” said Peter, loudly, so the whole bar could hear. We discussed flying one way by helicopter to reduce the time away from work.

In early May Peter was doing a couple of 10 kilometre walks a week and enjoying his newfound exercise. By the end of July, his portly publican’s paunch had all but disappeared and he had trimmed down to a fighting 100 kilograms. The time had come to do some snow training.

Sunday trading is a bit lean on the Coast these days so it was the one day Peter could put in a full day’s training. It was snowing heavily on August 3 when Peter Hill drove Rod Buchanan and I into Arthur’s Pass village for an attempt on Mt. Bealey. Peter put foot on mountain snow for the first time in his life that morning. Above the bush-line we were exposed to the full force of a howling norwest wind as the horizontally blowing snow and hail stabbed our windproof clothing like a driven nail. I was expecting Peter to wimp out. But no! He took to using crampons and an ice axe like a seasoned sherpa. I was beginning to admire this guy’s determination. By the end of the day Peter had passed his snow test with flying colours. Roll on Red Lion Peak!

About this time we finalised the group for Red Lion: Kevin Williams, 44, a carpet layer from Greymouth; Rod Buchanan, 52, bee keeper from Paroa; and David Norton, 34, a university lecturer from Christchurch. Peter and I made up the complement of five. The sixth member was to have been well-known mountaineer and publican of the Bealey Hotel at Arthurs Pass, Paddy Freaney, but he was snowbound and unable to get over the pass to join the others. When I phoned Paddy shortly before we left, he said: “The only way I can come over is to flog a jigger and come through the tunnel to the West Coast.” Unable to commandeer a jigger, Freaney missed the trip.All the expedition members had planned to juggle work and leave to fit in the climbsomewhere between August 24 to September 6 so we were frustrated when the first weekof this period saw three days of torrential rain. This was followed by two days of heavy snow which dumped two feet of snow in Christchurch’s Cathedral Square and on the Southern Alps. Acutely aware of avalanche danger, we went in well equipped to face any eventualities.

On Sunday morning August 30, the Met Office was forecasting a slender two day windowof good weather. Our five-man party flew by helicopter into the terminal face of the County Glacier at 4,000 feet and in the afternoon plugged footsteps up to 6,500 feet under Red Lion Peak (8,100 feet), so we’d get a flying start in the morning. As night closed in on our three tents, water froze solid in the billies.The next morning we got away in the dark at 5.30am. It must have been at least 15degrees below freezing as Peter Hills ex-Army combat boots froze solid during the night.Somehow his boots and camouflage trousers issued for Singapore conditions looked a bit out of place in the middle of severe South Island winter.It was a weak, wintry dawn that greeted us as we climbed up the County Glacier towards the base of Red Lion Peak. We commenced the ascent of the low peak of Red Lion Peak by the north facing slope. At 11.30am after two hours of steep climbing we reached the low summit, at 8050 feet.

Peter Hill and Kevin Williams commencing the final ridge of the high peak of Red Lion Peak. The stunning ridge of Mount Evans from Red Lion Col to summit is to the left. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Wanganui valley dropping away with startling abruptness beneath our bootsoles. On theopposite side of the County Glacier, Mt. Evans reigned supreme. An hour later we reached the high summit of Red Lion Peak.

The view from the top was unbelievable. We were like little boys at a lolly scramble as we jostled and excitedly pointed out landmarks. “There’s Mt. Hutt and the ArrowsmithRange,”’ shouted David. Mt. Cook, Mt. Tasman, in fact the whole of the Southern Alps both north and south were a stark reminder as to where we were. On the West Coast side there was our own Lake Kaniere, the Wanganui and Poerua Rivers. “Isn’t that the tail end of the Okarito Lagoon,” said Peter. It was a good feeling as we sat down to eat our lunch on the summit, knowing we had done the first winter traverse of the two peaks of Red Lion.

Peter was chuffed. As we ate I told the guys the history of Red Lion peak.The first ascent of the high peak was done by a Christchurch party, Wyndham Barnettand his cousin Stan Barnett, and B.R. Turner on 30 December 1934. They climbed thepeak from a camp above Vane Junction. Wyndham was born in 1911 and was a member ofthe Canterbury Mountaineering Club. He served in World War II as a gunner and died inTunisia when he was struck by a splinter from a stray bomb.

The descent back to our camp was straight forward in the warm afternoon. The nextmorning the weather closed in, and our chance of a winter ascent of Mt. Evans was lost.

As we left our camp in falling snow, the hardest part of the trip started. It took us four and-a-half days to descend down the County Glacier, County Stream and the Waitaha Valley back to our car at the roadend. The first stage of our trek back, with 70 pound packs,including tents, primuses, avalanche, climbing equipment and food, was down the snowladen County Glacier and then the stream. At times the snow was crutch deep which made the trip to County Hut slow and laborious.The next morning we made a significant discovery. Rod Buchanan and I, independentlyof each other, discovered footprints and droppings of the Great Spotted Kiwi near the County Hut. This was brilliant news as recent kiwi surveys had indicated that no Great Spotted Kiwi had been identified between Franz Josef and Greymouth for some years. As we descended the Waitaha we came across a number of blue ducks, bell-birds, wood pigeons and grey warblers which cheered us up, except Peter. “You greenies get excited over nothing,” said Peter. “Shut up,”’ came my reply, “or I’ll photograph you hugging the next tree and pin it on your pub wall.”’

From County Hut it took a further three days along a precipitous track which at timesteetered over three frightening gorges, more than 1000 feet below us. The track down the Waitaha Valley was totally devastated by storm-felled trees. Tree hugging was essential and was often the only security we had between us and the river, 500 feet below. The difficulty of the track down the Waitaha is described by John Pascoe in his ‘Southern Alps Guidebook’ : “The main river falls to a narrow rock gorge at 2,300feet, and in half a mile of cataracts dashes a thousand feet to the forks where the County River swells its volume, both to flow for some eight miles due west and then north in a series of gorges and cliffs where the scenery is spectacular. So difficult is the travelling below the County that most parties take the high level route at all costs, but deer killers’ tracks holdthe south bank.”

Moonbeam Hut, Lower Waitaha Valley. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Rod Buchanan, expedition member and a member of the West Coast ConservationBoard, estimated there were at least five trees blocking our way every 100 yards. He reckoned it would take about two person-years to restore the Waitaha Valley to the condition it was before this winter’s snow and wind damage.On Friday 4 September, five tired climbers arrived back at the Red Lion Tavern inHokitika. Peter Hill was pleased to be home and was greeted by his sister Margaret, who had been running the pub during his six day absence. Peter sat down, like a happy Buddha, in front of huge roaring fire. It was beers all round, huge tankards of Christchurch Dark Ale. Before long our wet clothes were steaming.A week later Peter Hill’s patrons treat him with greater respect. He’s much slimmer now and seems to have more purpose in his stride as he moves from table to table. The summit photo of Peter and his team proudly hangs on the wall, near the bar. Last Friday a tourist asked him why he doesn’t have more photographs of mountains on his wall. “Have a look out the tavern window, you can see bloody mountains as far south as Mount Cook and Mount Tasman,”’ he replied.“Are you a climber?” the tourist asked. There was a silence while he thought. “I’ve climbed a mountain or two,” said Peter, as he glanced towards the silhouette of Mt. Evans, which hides Red Lion Peak behind. The view out his pub window now has new meaning.

Name: Alicia KeysNickname: LellowBirth Name: Alicia Augello CookHeight: 5' 8"Weight: 110 lbsDate of birth: January 25, 1981Place of birth: Manhattan, New York, USAProfession: musician, song writerEducation: The Professional Performance Arts School in Manhattan, New York (majored in Choir; graduated in 1997), Columbia University in New York (did not attend so she could pursue singing professionally)Natural hair color: blackEyes color: brownNationality: AmericanEthnicity: Italian, Afro-American

Friday, February 20, 2009

Disorder and chaos. I mean, it really has got to be expected. After all it is The Cribs.

It seems a while ago now but Sunday 8th February saw myself and my lovely boyfriend in Bradford. Snow falling, lapping the city center for a restaurant, and my boyfriend jumping in icy puddles. A few hours to kill before The Cribs and we were excited. The boyfriend is a big fan and takes to putting on his Cribsmas DVD whenever I'm not in the room and then convinces me to leave it on with promises of glimpses of beards or Nick Hodgson. I am not as dedicated a fan as he, but have seen them more than he has, I just love gigs.

Plus, seeing The Cribs live is not something I'd ever turn down. Because, although I may lack the sheer enthusiasm my boyfriend has in abundance for the Jarman's, seeing them play live is an absolute treat. Indulgently, I like to observe the entire spectacle. Not just their performance which is always laced with haphazard, yet charming, inconsistencies. Sibling similarities but stark differences and approaches. Personally, my crush tends to lean quite unshakably towards Ryan and the boyfriend's, well, he is a Gary-lover. But the thing that I enjoy most of all is to watch the massive out-pouring of dedication and adulation from the audience and Cribs-worshippers. I genuinely love just looking and taking in the adoration that swarms of independent beings collectively muster for this band.

I mean it, if you get the chance buggering go! Ignore The Cribs for a moment or two (especially Johnny Marr), detach yourself from the ongoings and experience what it is that The Cribs still manage to foster in people.

The St. Georges Hall in Bradford is a great venue. And getting to go there again was such a treat for me. The city of Bradford helped shape me and going there made my heart ache, in a good way.

The leader has his or her eye on the horizon or the summit. Photo: Bob McKerrow

My last posting was on leadership and management and it engendered some lively feedback and discussion. Having been in leadership positions for a number of decades from leading mountain rescue teams and having to make life-saving decisions, directing outdoor education centres where the wrong decision could result in death, or being caught near the front line between two warring factions, and having to decide to evacuate my team or stay put, makes you realize there is a lot of clap-trap written about leadership by academics who have spent little time in the trenches. I was fortunate in being able to learn from my own experiences and by listening to my elders over the years, both Pakeha (European) and Maori.

I love that story I first heard when I was young from that great Kaumatua (Maorichief) Turi Elkington, of Ngato Kuia, when he asked me “What is the most important thing ? (“He aha te mea nui?"} When I was silent he answered, "He Tangata, He Tanhgata, He Tangata" ( People, People, People.)

In my last posting I listed the qualities and differences between leaders and managers and the most important to me is this one.

• The manager focuses on systems and structure; the leader focuses on people.

My two youngest children are boys and I am sure they will soon start asking more difficult questions about what to do in life and seeking advice on personalqualities.What will my answer be ? I believe I cannot fail them if I quote Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘ IF.

IF

If you can keep your head when all about youAre losing theirs and blaming it on you,If you can trust yourself when all men doubtyouBut make allowance for their doubting too,If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,Or being hated, don't give way to hating,And yet don't look too good, nor talk toowise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams yourmaster,If you can think--and not make thoughts youraim;If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterAnd treat those two impostors just the same;If you can bear to hear the truth you'vespokenTwisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,Or watch the things you gave your life to,broken,And stoop and build 'em up with worn-outtools:

If you can make one heap of all your winningsAnd risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,And lose, and start again at your beginningsAnd never breath a word about your loss;If you can force your heart and nerve andsinewTo serve your turn long after they are gone,And so hold on when there is nothing in youExcept the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep yourvirtue,Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,If neither foes nor loving friends can hurtyou;If all men count with you, but none too much,If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds' worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything that's init,And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

Just how many people IS 80,000? How can we relate to such a huge number?

• If Justin took an hour out of every day and spent just 60 seconds to talk to every one of his subscribers on the phone, it would take him over 3 and a half years to talk to everyone. Of course, if his accounts keep growing like they are, he would never be able to catch up.

• If all of Justin's subscribers lined up in single file, it would take about half an hour to drive past them all at highway speed.

• If Justin was to have a party and invited all his subscribers, he would need an area of over 3 and a half acres if everyone only had 2 square feet of space.

What does 80,000 people look like?

Take a look...

Now don't you feel special when you get a reply?

What are some other ways you can relate to 80,000 people? Leave a comment! And don't forget to bookmark and memorize